


Desperate Retrieval of Relative Bonding

by SonOfDysonSphere



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonOfDysonSphere/pseuds/SonOfDysonSphere
Summary: Alice was working on a new project, only to be interrupted by a knock at her door. The visitor came bearing gifts, but the gifts were not for her. (Alcohol, Support, and the Inescapbable Pull of Famial Expectations)





	Desperate Retrieval of Relative Bonding

The Forest of Magic, where Alice Margatroid resided in her fine cottage, was currently amidst a gentle and quiet rainfall typical of late autumn. Despite the calmness, the falling droplets still succeeding in parting stubborn leaves from their branches, culminating in a truly unpleasant mess of drenched leaves along the forest floor. All of this suited Alice just fine however, as it kept the more troublesome elements of the forest away, leaving her to work on her latest project:

A new doll, perhaps one that will be given as a gift, or perhaps not. Alice had yet to decide.

Even as her hands worked the dolls body towards completion, many of her already complete dolls worked around the cottage. One doll brewing tea as the time of day demanded, another carefully bringing wood to the fire that warmed the homestead, and others still retrieving, straightening, and preparing. Unseen strings moved in harmony with Alice’s sewing, and the perfection of her home life endured.

Nothing felt more natural or fulfilling. This peace, alone with her magic and dolls, was unbreak-

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

 

The unsightly sound of someone thrice kicking a door stopped Alice’s work, and the dolls followed suit. In the silence that followed, Alice pondered the possibilities behind the sound. Surely no one would be foolish enough to travel the woods on a dreary day like today? Had it just been the sound of an old tree in the forest falling over, as that happened occasionally? Satisfied with that answer, she and her dolls went back to work, the orchestra of movements slowly working Alice back into the peace of mind she so adored.

The monochrome light interacting with the illumination her work lanterns exuded worked well as a crutch to ease back into a productive mindset after the distraction. Once again the peaceful feelings flooded over Alice in earnest.

This contentment, with the rhythm of ambition, and being secluded from the world of troublesome things-

 

THUNK. THUNK.

 

Now unmistakable, the sound was confirmed to be someone kicking a door, which was, in all probability, Alice’s front door. A split second passed as she considered ignoring the rainy caller, but immediately after her mind settled on exactly who it was, based solely on who was the only one crazy enough to travel under any weather, she realized she should probably greet them.

The wires that ran amongst her home to ensure her doll mastery was absolute in her own space relaxed to make room for her guest. With a quick hand through her hair and tug on her collar to ensure perfection, Alice approached her door and opened it.

“I was not expecting you till next week.” Alice’s tone could not conceal its own naturally condescending aspect.

The guest, Marisa Kirisame, broke a wide grin, though Alice could easily measure how much force it took to exude. A large crate bore between her arms, Marisa’s broad black hat obviously having taken the brunt of the wet weather and a slight shiver in her shoulders, her demeanour still managed a care free one.

“I’m out of space at my place and was wondering if I could store this stuff in your cellar.” She answered as she stepped beside Alice to join her inside.

“I am not particularly comfortable with being an accomplice in the eyes of half the people you ‘borrow’ things from.” Though as Alice answered her mind had already been changed. “But it’s fine to come in out of the rain and warm up.”

With a flick of her wrist, several dolls brought forth tea and cups, floating through the house on unseen strings. Marisa unceremoniously deposited the soaked crate onto the floor before hanging up her dripping hat and removing her mud caked boots that seemed to have carried half the forest floor inside. Side eyeing her guest, Alice resolved to improve the entrance to her cottage into a proper mud room next time she was planning renovations.

“So where did you borrow these items from?” Alice enquired quaintly.

“….they were given to me.” Was the short reply.

“Oh?” Alice was incredulous. “From who?”

Alice did not expect this line of questioning to shut down Marisa with such ease, but so it did.

“My parents.” Came the eventual answer.

“I see.” Alice found herself genuinely surprised, knowing full well the lengths Marisa had gone over the past several years to remove herself from her family. “Come sit down.”

Alice led Marisa to the dining table while the tea was served before them.

“They found your house?” Alice was surprised to consider this, as Marisa’s house was nearly as deep into the Forest of Magic as her own.

An unsatisfied nod was the only response Alice received.

Many a drunken night had revealed to Alice many of Marisa’s darkest secrets, most of them revolving around the subject of family. The air inside the cottage had gotten dreary, but Alice was determined to pick her dear companion out of depression. The two witches sat in unusual silence while drinking their perfectly brewed tea, Alice’s eyes studying Marisa in her obtuse brooding mood. The warm tea already beginning to revitalize Marisa, her faraway stare fading to a more neutral melancholy.

“Did you want to borrow a book to read before dinner?” Alice knew her offer would entice a better mood out of Marisa. “You are staying for dinner are you not?”

Free food and drink would easily seal the deal, it was almost unfair. Almost.

“Yeah, I’ll stay for dinner.” With more energy in her nod, Marisa left her seat and approached the bookshelf, her knowing hand scanning the shelf’s contents without contact, understanding what titles it hovered across better than her eyes. Seemingly in a trance, the gold-eyed witch inevitably reached for the top shelf where sat only a single volume. The gold inlaid cover chained and locked, a nearly inaudible hum filled the cottage as Marisa’s hand approached it’s spine…

“-Not- that one.” Alice’s tone was firm and projected strongly enough to bring Marisa to her senses. Alice found herself standing, her chair toppled over on the floor in an unsightly manner. The dolls of the house had halted. Marisa was staring at her like she was a blade of grass she thought could only grow through eye contact, before her expression jumbled between confusion, concern and discomfort. Finally:

“Of course.” Marisa’s expression was familiar to Alice, the one where she had just gotten caught stealing. Not that Marisa had ever stolen from Alice, but she had been around her plenty of times when others had caught her. Her hand retrieving a book from the shelf below, Marisa took two strides towards the loveseat by the front window and plopped herself down onto it.

“Wonderful. I have a project I am working on however and wish to return to it now.” Alice left Marisa to her own devices and returned to her workshop, where she worked for the next few hours, only occasionally tilting her head out the door to check on her guest.

Marisa spent the time reading through a book she had read previously, the perpetual rain keeping time in a way known only to it before the grey afternoon light descended into the encompassing black typical of a cloudy late-autumn evening. Somewhere amongst familiar pages and the rhythmic sewing of doll clothing, several of the house dolls prepared a stew for dinner, the scent crawling through the house like vine up a garden wall, stirring the appetites of both occupants. The soft clinking of silverware being set on the table signalled both witches that dinner neared completion, the pair leaving their separate tasks and meeting at the table to take seats across from each other.

Stew suitable to combat the cold and wet conditions Marisa endured making her trek through the forest was served with bread, accompanied by a healthy helping of premium sake. The two witches ate in relative silence besides giving gratitude and acknowledgement. Soon a healthy glow rose within the cheeks of both women and Alice thought now, as their bowls were empty and their sake glasses refilled for the third time, was the time to fully breach the ice.

“So what did your parents give you?” A playful smile matched a curious tone, accented by the slightest of slurs.

Marisa’s snort in return was incredibly entertaining, in addition to being amazingly telling.

“Several boxes of-” Marisa offered quick and crude air-quotes, “Magic Items”

“Oh?” Alice found it difficult to suppress her giggling. “Such as?”

“A Ouija board…”

“And what in all that is Arcane is that?”

The strategy was working, Marisa was opening up more and their usual quick back and forth banter filled with fun and laughter was finding its stride.

“A board for talking to spirits!” Marisa blurted before unashamedly snorting once more and breaking into laughter before adding: “The two of them have obviously never talked to spirits! And if they did they would have wished they hadn’t!”

“They are rather morose aren’t they?”

Both of their laughter now filled all the spaces in between either one of them talking.

“What else was there?” Alice was quite enjoying this topic, but was more relieved to see Marisa back to her animated self.

“Well there was this crazy thing…” Marisa attempted to reach for the crate she had left near the door from her seat, but in a show of her intoxication, nearly fell out of her chair. Righting herself and making a proper attempt, she retrieved the spherical item in question and placed it on the table.

“It’s apparently called a Magic Nine ball.” Her expression held fast against oncoming laughter. “It apparently tells the answer to any question you ask after shaking it!”

“Really?” Alice was intrigued.

Seizing the misnamed eight ball off the table, she asked aloud who would be responsible for the next big incident before checking the bottom for her answer.

‘I cannot say at this time.’ Was the given answer.

Both witches howled.

Somewhere in all the laughter their glasses were being filled for a fourth time by Alice’s dolls.

“I just don’t know how to handle them approaching me like this. Trying to get back in my life after all they tried to force on me…After how hard I worked to escape all of their plans…” Marisa’s mood sobered quickly, even if she herself did not.

“It’s all a matter of succession is it not?” Alice’s foggy mind struggled to keep up with her mouth. “Marry a man from the village and inherit the family store?”

Marisa nodded while not making eye contact.

“Well then why not marry someone they would not approve of to shake them off once and for all?” All the possible insinuations of what she had just said caught up with Alice’s intoxicated mind immediately after she finished her sentence.

“I have definitely been looking in that direction.” Marisa agreed, once again confident and with raised spirits from her ally’s support. “But it’s honestly so much to have to handle right now.”

“I moved into my own place, made my own name for myself, made my own connections.” Her eyes met Alice’s with that statement, both becoming very conscious of the other. “After all I’ve established away from them I just couldn’t see myself making such a move that may endanger all I have accomplished.”

Alice nodded in inebriated understanding, quite pleased to be such a close confidant of her dear Marisa, before once again turning the subject back to the phony magical items Marisa was gifted, their fun at mocking the items lasting well into the night.

 

* * *

“Alright, I guess I should head home.” Marisa’s words were burdened with a drunken slur.

“You know you are welcome to stay the night.” Alice reminded her in a matter-of-fact way.

“But you haven’t built your guest room!” Marisa exclaimed in protest before adding: “Though that hasn’t stopped me in the past…”

Dolls had already laid out sleepwear and fluffed the pillows.

 

* * *

 

The two had been laying in the cottage’s small bed for a while, each believing the other had fallen asleep.

“When will you allow me to read that Grimoire of yours on the top shelf?” Marisa was nearly asleep when she quietly posed the question to who she thought was a sleeping Alice.

There was silence long enough for Marisa to believe that her bedfellow was truly asleep, but soon after, an answer was provided:

“When you are ready to face eternity as an immortal…” Despite her sleepy voice, Alice was brought wide awake waiting for a response for several minutes.

The sound of a doll placing a log atop the fire to keep the cottage warm could be heard from the other room. At the exact same instant, though Alice could not tell if it was in waking or in dream, a reply may have been given:

“If it’s with you Alice, eternity would not be hard to face at all…”


End file.
